


Degrees of Innocence

by xadie



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Coercion, M/M, Memory Alteration, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 18:35:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xadie/pseuds/xadie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kira Izuru never wanted his life to be like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Degrees of Innocence

This was bad. The captain was muttering, marching at considerable speed, allowing Kira to trail in his wake without a backwards glance. It was always something of a struggle to keep up with Ichimaru Gin – he liked it that way, Kira suspected, enjoyed the fact that movements that looked so carefree were actually so efficient. Tonight was a different matter, however, and every tense, aggravated line of the captain’s body told Kira he was in for a very difficult night.

“Captain?” he murmured, surprised by the low volume of his own voice. What had happened to him, when did he become so cowardly? He repeated the word, louder, but the captain didn’t seem to have heard. Kira puffed out his cheeks, unwilling, but finally forced to use the name he’d been told to. The intimacy still bothered him a little in public. “Uh, Gin?” 

“Wha’?” the captain growled over his shoulder. Kira felt a shiver run through him, and his bruised shoulder twinged painfully.

“Where are we going?” Kira thought it was best to be direct. He hoped he wouldn’t regret it later. Gin hissed, but Kira was relieved it wasn’t aimed at him.

“Aizen wans a see yer.” Now Gin mentioned it, they were nearly at the 5th division’s headquarters. Kira trotted a little faster to keep up. Aizen? Why did his former captain ask for him? This was very strange, he had barely seen Aizen since moving to the 3rd with Gin. 

Kira didn’t know what had happened, but the two biggest influences on his military career, Aizen, his captain, and Gin, his lieutenant, always so close, had suddenly started hating each other. Not long after, Gin was promoted. Kira wondered whether that had had anything to do with the animosity between them. Now, more often than not, Kira was left exchanging sad smiles with Momo as their two leaders sniped at each other if they passed by chance in a corridor. 

They arrived at the empty 5th division, all the shinigami already in their barracks or out drinking. Kira wished that was where he was, imagining Matsumoto and Renji happily slipping into a sake coma while he waited in the dark for a meeting that was sure to be unpleasant. Gin barely bothered to knock before throwing back the door, revealing the cosy interior of Aizen’s office. He stormed in, still muttering, and Kira had no choice but to follow.

“Aizen,” Gin spat, his contempt obvious. As Kira moved further into the office, he could see the light reflecting off Aizen’s glasses, the slight smile he wore despite the tension in his shoulders. His former captain stood in one fluid motion, touched the hilt of Kyoka Suigetsu where she lay on his desk, whether as a threat or a comfort, Kira couldn’t tell, and smiled more broadly.

“Ichimaru. You should go now.” Gin was also smiling, that rictus grin he faced the world with, but as he spun on his heel he looked at Kira and the mask slipped a little. He fixed his heavy-lidded eyes on his lieutenant with an unreadable expression, and Kira stared back, trying to interpret it. Was it fear, sadness? It was impossible to tell, and with a few quick steps Gin was past Kira and gone. 

“Kira.” Reluctantly, Kira turned his gaze away from the now-closed door and looked at Aizen. His former captain was moving around the desk, still smiling, but now that smile looked genuine, and his voice was as warm as melting honey. “It’s so good to see you. Come here.” He held out his arms, his haori swishing softly against itself. 

Hesitantly, Kira shuffled forward. Although he’d never met with anything but kindness from Aizen, he’d quickly learned from Gin that whenever a captain called you, you’d better be prepared. He felt himself brush past something and jumped slightly, looking around to see that there was nothing there. Aizen’s gaze hardened, and he took a couple of quick steps forward, catching Kira’s upper arms and holding them tightly, jolting his injured shoulder.

“What’s happened to you?” Kira flinched at the pain and the repetition of his own question to himself earlier in the evening. “Are you okay?” Was he? Was his life now what he’d imagined when he joined the Gotei 13? Kira felt tears pricking his eyes, threatening to fall. Aizen’s aura of warmth and love was almost unbearable after a year of only being physically close with someone as cold as a snake. Aizen’s fingers moved to his face, brushing back the curtain of hair and stroking gentle thumbs over his cheeks. “Look at these bags under your eyes, these lines where your mouth turns down. You used to be so happy, Kira, what happened?”

Unable to stand it any longer, Kira forced himself backwards, freeing himself from Aizen, turning away and drawing a deep, shuddering breath. He looked out into the darkness beyond the welcoming circle of lamplight from the desk, and reminded himself where his duty lay. When he turned back to Aizen, he knew his face wouldn’t betray him again.

“I’m very well, thank you, Captain Aizen,” Kira said, answering the safest question amongst the many. “I’m very happy and proud to be a member of the 3rd division and to serve under Captain Ichimaru.” His voice sounded mechanical to his own ears, but better that than emotional and disloyal. Aizen frowned, his brown eyes sad, and stepped forward once more, capturing Kira within his aura. His fingers skimmed down over Kira’s throat, an unsettlingly intimate gesture, where they tangled in his kosode and pulled both it and his kimono back. Kira closed his eyes. He knew what was now revealed.

“What’s this?” Aizen asked, so gently that Kira felt a lump rise in his throat again. He pushed it down while kind fingers ran over the red, raised skin, a rope burn only a couple of days old. If Aizen cared to look, he’d find dozens of them, maybe hundreds, a red and silver cobweb of burns and marks all over Kira’s body. A net of ownership he couldn’t break free from, and wasn’t sure he wanted to. He’d never belonged to anyone before. “Kira?” Aizen was looking down into his face, unsure and kind, and it would be so easy to let it all out, the pain, the degradation he felt every single day when all he’d wanted was to serve Soul Society and keep everyone safe. Instead he did what he’d learned to do best.

“A-aizen,” he mumbled brokenly, a question and a promise all at once. He allowed his hands to lie flat on Aizen’s broad chest, his palms running over the white fabric of the captain’s haori to rest, one at his shoulder, one at the very edge of the material where it met the smooth, slightly tanned skin of Aizen’s torso. He felt his displaced kimono dragging painfully across the rope burn, and shuddered at the reminder of Gin’s ownership. How often had they played these games of seduction and response?

“Kira?” Aizen asked again, a slightly warning tone entering the two syllables. 

“I…” Kira bit his lip as though overcome, flicked a frightened look up at Aizen through his eyelashes before dropping his gaze to watch his fingertips drawing small circles on Aizen’s chest, ever closer to that sliver of skin revealed by his kosode. “I can’t…” he paused a moment, then raised his eyes to meet Aizen’s in a practiced dance the other didn’t know the steps to. “You must know, you must have realised,” he raised himself gradually on his tiptoes, his tongue flicking across his dry lips, “when I was here, how I felt about you…” For a split second Aizen’s eyes flickered down to Kira’s lips, and with a sinking heart Kira realised he’d won. All the rest was inevitable, now.

He turned gracefully, bringing his hands up to cover his face, not taking his body too far away from Aizen’s. “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” he exclaimed. “Please, forgive me. I was overcome, with you being so close… You must hate me.” Just as he’d expected, warm hands closed around his shoulders, and he found himself resting full length against Aizen’s body.

“I don’t hate you, please don’t think that,” Aizen said, and Kira could feel the deep voice rumbling from Aizen’s chest into his back. He tried, and realised he was failing, to soften his own mutinous gaze, his body rebelling against his intentions. He closed his eyes instead, letting his head fall back against Aizen’s shoulder, exposing the long, elegant line of his throat in a shamefully submissive gesture, hoping against hope that all the bite-marks had faded. His hands danced up hesitantly to rest on Aizen’s, letting their heat soak into his chilled skin. “We need to talk about what’s happened to you,” Aizen continued, but his voice sounded thick and when he brushed a hand over the welt on Kira’s chest Kira felt his shudder and indrawn breath awakening a response in Aizen’s body that the tall captain would probably not want him to notice. Instead he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, making his buttocks brush teasingly against hardening flesh. Big hands dropped to his hips, stilling him but also pulling him closer. “Kira, don’t…”

“Don’t what?” Kira asked innocently, deciding he’d had his back to Aizen long enough and turning slowly, keeping contact against his former captain’s lower body. Aizen’s hands still rested on Kira’s hips; he hadn’t seemed able to move them. Looking up into that generous, bewildered and yes, turned on face nearly made Kira drop the whole thing. Aizen was such a good person, and he was about to take advantage of that to protect someone who’d been abusing him for twelve months. That was seriously fucked up logic. 

His comment earlier on about his feelings for Aizen had hit a little too close to home: he’d had a crush on Aizen when he served under him, more because he idolised him than any sexual reason. He’d been too innocent for that, happy to moon over the handsome captain with Momo while Renji pretended to throw up and stared out the window in case either Kuchiki walked by. But even as he slid his hands up to link behind Aizen’s neck, even as he slowly raised his lips to catch against Aizen’s, he was wishing for slim shoulders under his arms, a mocking mouth to press his lips against and silver hair as soft and fine as a baby’s under his fingers. He closed his eyes and imagined Aizen’s warmth was Gin’s coolness, the grip on his hips cruel instead of gentle, the tongue moving against his more likely to drop insults than endearments, and he had managed to conjure up the image so fully that he was surprised when Aizen’s gasp and backwards step made him open his eyes and confront reality.

Aizen was breathing hard, his cheeks flushed. He looked rumpled and somehow boyish, innocent, leaning against the desk for support. Perhaps Kira had done enough.

“Those marks on you …” Kira resisted the urge to sigh and narrow his eyes. All he wanted to do was get out of there, get back to the barracks and see Gin. If he explained everything, maybe the punishment wouldn’t be so bad. If kind-hearted Aizen realised how much worse every minute he spent here would make the beating he’d get later, he’d be horrified. 

“Aizen…” He allowed himself to drift forward, not trying to be seductive, letting a tear of frustration that would look like one of melancholy spring to his eye. “I haven’t been sleeping, I’ve been clumsy on the practice field.” Kira slid his hands down over Aizen’s chest, his well-muscled stomach, to rest slightly above the white obi at his waist. He kissed Aizen again, deeply, needily. “I missed you,” he whispered against wetted lips, before dropping slowly to his knees.

Later, after the groaning and the spasming and some surprisingly rough treatment of his mouth that he’d actually found himself enjoying, Kira was wiping his face off as best he could with his sleeve when Aizen turned to the side and spoke to someone in the shadows.

“You can take him now, that’ll do for tonight.” Gin stepped into the circle of lamplight, his expression grim. Kira, shocked and suddenly deeply afraid, tried to stand and tripped over his own hakama, sprawling backwards onto the floor in a tangle from which he couldn’t seem to extricate himself. Gin didn’t hesitate, but scooped him up into his arms in one easy gesture, the slenderness of his frame belying his strength. He carried Kira towards the door, Kira holding himself very still and trying not even to breathe too heavily in case he provoked his captain. Aizen spoke again behind them.

“You’ve got an hour before he forgets again.” Gin nodded, his face a mask, and Kira was glad when his captain didn’t look down to meet his frightened gaze. But there was a carefulness in Gin’s arms that Kira didn’t remember ever feeling from him before, and when, in a couple of flashsteps, they arrived back at the 3rd division, the captain set him down gently. When he followed Gin into his quarters, anticipating a beating or worse, he was surprised by a soft kiss, fingers running through his messy hair, arms encircling him as though he were something precious. 

Gin paused, looking deeply into his surprised eyes, stroking Kira’s cheek with those long fingers Kira loved so much. He leant down and licked a droplet of something Kira didn’t want to think about from his cheek, and smiled at him, an honest, tender expression that broke Kira’s heart. He felt tears spring unexpectedly to his eyes. 

“Ya dun good, Izuru-chan,” he murmured, tipping up Kira’s chin and kissing him again searchingly, so sweetly that Kira felt like he was melting. All coherent thought flew out of his head, as the captain laid him down and made love to him gently, considerately, bringing them both to the most perfect and simultaneous conclusion. Afterwards, he cradled him in his arms, letting him lie close and listen to his slowing heartbeat. Kira realised he had never been happier. 

All too soon, Gin sat up in bed, dropping his head onto the arms that rested on his crooked knees. He sighed deeply, his shoulders drawn up, and reached for his zanpakuto. Kira frowned in confusion

“I’m sorry,” the captain said simply, and brought the hilt of Shinso down sharply on Kira’s temple. Kira saw stars and then darkness.

When Kira opened his eyes, light was creeping around the blinds, turning the room grey. He itched all over from the tatami matting his naked body had spent the night sprawled on, and his neck was painfully stiff. He raised a hand to rub at the pulsing lump on one side of his head, and realised his hands were still loosely bound together. He remembered the previous night’s activities, a particularly long and extreme session of bondage that had lasted from the time that the sun had slipped below the horizon until late into the night. He exhaustedly wondered why he put up with it. The binding, the torture, it degraded him in ways he couldn’t begin to count. 

Stifling a sigh, Kira dragged himself off the floor, looking over to where Gin’s long, lean back emerged from the snowy white sheets of his bedding. The captain was deeply asleep where he had thrown himself, leaving Kira to spend a cold and uncomfortable night on the floor. Looking down at the peaceful face, boyish in sleep, Kira wondered whether he hated his captain. Holding his head, he turned to the pitcher of water and basin, and started to wash away the worst of the night’s excesses.

Later the lieutenants and captains were gathered together for a meeting. Kira stood at the back with Momo and Renji, while Gin and Aizen stood at the front, at opposite ends of the room, avoiding each other’s gaze. Momo’s childlike eyes opened wide at the sight of the bump on the side of Kira’s head. 

“What happened?” she asked in wonder, and Kira hoped fervently that she would never understand what he was going through. 

“Nasty accident in training,” he replied, and realised his mouth and throat were sore. He hadn’t noticed because he hadn’t spoken to anyone all morning. Was this what his life had become?

Renji’s eyes slid over him assessingly, and Kira wondered whether he suspected something. But the redhead didn’t comment, leaning back against the wall and yawning widely, starting to yammer on about how annoying it was to have a meeting in the middle of the day.

Kira felt another pair of eyes on him, and turned to see Aizen looking at him. When Kira caught his gaze, Aizen smiled at him warmly and looked away. Kira felt a weight in the pit of his stomach and something stirring at the back of his mind, a feeling like déjà vu, but no matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn’t work out what was wrong. Instead he fixed his eyes on Gin. 

The captain stood easily, his body relaxed, his fixed grin hiding his true feelings, whatever they might be. He was really beautiful, Kira realised, and he called to him in a way that Kira would probably never understand. 

Ichimaru Gin might not care about him in the slightest, but at least being possessed by him was better than being unwanted.


End file.
